As If
by Sorii
Summary: Spinoff from Eye of the Storm. Shirley deliberates as to what to get the brat for his birthday. Implied AceOC. T for language. Happy birthday, Ace!


**A/N : **So I totally forgot about Ace's birthday until I saw a birthday fic up last night... and was like "OH MY EFFING GOD SH***!" And started writing this. It's definitely not my best work, but I don't think it's my worst either. Written entirely on the comp, worked on it half an hour last night and all day (ish, on and off) today. Hope you enjoy! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ACE!

_...As If  
One-shot  
© Sorii. 1/1/09_

"What?" Shirley looked up from polishing Dreamweaver. "Say that again?"

"It's Ace's birthday today," Marco said, leaning against the side of her doorway. "Ya gettin' him anything, Shirley?"

"Me?" She scoffed. "As if. He doesn't deserve shit."

Marco grinned. Shirley thought to herself darkly that it may as well have been a smirk. "You know, we land on an island soon..."

"So?" She responded curtly. Looking down, she continued her ministrations with her beloved sword. "What's your point?"

Marco ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Really, Shirley? You're not gettin' the kid anything? Not even a new dagger?"

The 2nd Division Commander pursed her lips. "No. It's not like I'm obliged to or anything anyway. It's just a damn birthday."

"It's his first birthday with the crew—"

"Excuses." Shirley shoved it off. "Now leave me alone before I shove Dreamweaver up your ass."

Marco raised his hands in submission. "Okay, okay. Just wanted ta let you know."

"It was unneeded."

After the 1st Division Commander shut the door quietly behind him, Shirley began to have second thoughts. His birthday, eh? That'd make him, what, 18? Heh, finally not a kid anymore. About time.

But should she get him anything? Like she said, she wasn't obliged. It was completely and utterly unnecessary, something she'd do on her own time. It wasn't like she was broke; she had plenty of money leftover from the last mission after getting Dreamweaver fixed up. At least 100,000 beli was sitting in her drawers...

Shirley groaned, dropping her sword where it clattered against the wooden floorboards and clutching her head in frustration. "What the hell!" She yelled out loud. "Stupid fucking kid!" Laying back on her bed, she placed her right arm over her eyes, thinking. She didn't _need_ to get him something... but she probably _would_...

But what?

"Damn kid's gonna be the end of me," She grumbled, sheathing Dreamweaver and snapping it onto her waist. The next island was a summer island, so she decided to dress lightly—a simple red tank top and black shorts with a leather belt hanging diagonal from her left hip to the middle of her right thigh. Shirley brushed her unruly brunette locks so that they looked presentable for once, opting to leave her hair down instead of putting it up. Her usual black combat boots laced up to her knee, glossy and intimidating.

As the swordswoman rummaged through her drawers, she fished out half of her money and shoved it into her pocket, folded neatly. Swinging her door open, she made her way out onto the deck where the sun shone brightly and warmed her pale skin. Stretching, she raised her head to look at the crow's nest, using her hand to shield her eyes from the light. "Emmett!" She called. The man waved over the edge of the small enclosure, smiling. "How much longer 'til we hit land?"

"Not much, just maybe half an hour more!" He yelled back. "You can see the island pretty clearly if you look ahead!" Turning around, she realized he was right; it was a pretty populated island with quaint white buildings and a sufficient looking marketplace, jammed with a multitude of colored umbrellas representing each stall. Giving him a wave of thanks, she strode to the front of the deck, leaned forward on the railing and waited for landing.

–

This time the island's name was Arika Isle. Small, with a decently sized population, and nice people. Apparently they didn't see pirates too often, and greeted them kindly enough. Shirley placed a hand and foot on the edge of the ship before hoisting herself over sideways, landing on the bank they'd docked on. The sand here was pink. A strange color, she mused. Pink sand. She'd never seen this particular shade before.

"I'll be back by mid-afternoon," She called to whoever was on guard duty. Marco followed close behind her, keeping just a few steps between them.

Without turning around, Shirley growled, "What the hell are you doing stalking me, Marco? Got nothing better to do? If you need something to occupy your time, I suggest the nearest whore-house,"

Sighing, Marco replied, "Come now Shirley, you take me too lightly. What do you take me for, a womanizer?"

Her glare said that that was exactly what she was thinking.

Laughing, he shrugged. "Think what you want, Shirley dear. I'm just here to help you pick out a gift for Ace."

"Who said I was picking out a gift for anyone?" She snapped. "As if I'd get that brat anything. Not like I got shit for my 18th."

Jogging up to catch up to her, Marco said, "That was 'cause the whole crew was afraid of you pulverizing them to get you anything."

The pirate scoffed. "Yeah, right," She grumbled.

The marketplace was crowded today, full of chattering men and women bargaining for better deals. Various shops could be found—foods, silks, wood, metal, and random other stores. Shirley paused at a vendor where an elderly woman stood, smiling slightly. The table in front of her was covered in a scarlet cloth, with different types of jewelry laid out in a neat fashion. It ranged from necklaces to earrings, pearls to bracelets. Rings and headbands joined the group as well, but in a smaller quantity.

The woman smiled, the corner of her eyes crinkling. "What are you looking for today, miss?"

Shirley pursed her lips. "Nothing," She responded curtly. "Just looking."

The vendor nodded knowingly, still smiling. "And you, sir?" She said, turning to Marco. "Are you going to buy something for this miss? Perhaps a ring to propose?"

"Ah, now that you mention it, I just might—" Marco began, smirking. Shirley kicked him subtly where the woman couldn't see, as a warning. A leer from her eyes to his was formed, and if it were physical, it could have cut the air. "Just kidding."

Shirley reached out for a certain necklace towards the back of the table, hidden by the other flashier trinkets. This one was plain, just plain dull red beads strung on a necklace. They were unusually large though, each about the size of her thumb. Stroking it, she realized it was strangely smooth, like glass.

The female pirate picked it up, rolling it over in her hands. "What is this?"

The woman beamed. "Ah, you have made a good choice, miss! These are the rare crimson pearls, taken exclusively from the endangered Red Orca Oyster, found only in North Blue! It is said that whoever wears it shall be protected with luck and good fortune." She gushed.

Shirley frowned, scrutinizing it. "Pearls, huh," She scoffed. "Ridiculous. I'd have heard of these if they were real. And you said they're endangered? Why the hell are you poaching them then?"

"How much are they?" Marco interrupted her tirade.

"For you, only 13,000 beli."

"What?" Shirley said in disgust. "13,000 for this fake piece of shit? Are you kidding me?"

"Ah," The old lady said, smiling and nodding. "But since you'll be buying it for a special person, I'll knock it down to 8,000."

"WHO SAID I WAS GETTING IT FOR ANYONE?" Shirley shouted, about to pummel to woman's face in. If it weren't for Marco restraining her, that woman would surely be sporting a nice bruise or broken nose right now.

Despite the threat, the elder laughed wholeheartedly. "You're a feisty one, miss," She said. Grabbing the necklace, she place them in a brown bag and tossed the package to the Shirley, who eyed it warily as she caught it. "Take it for free. Think of it as a thank you, for entertaining me in this old life. I hope your loved one gets the message you want to send."

Pursing her lips, Shirley dug into her pockets and slapped 10,000 beli on the table. "I don't take things for free, lady," She said. With that, she balled up the necklace and shoved it into her back pocket, mumbling dark words under her breath and stomping away. Marco apologized sheepishly to the woman for her before running after his companion back to the ship.

That night, Gilbert whipped up a feast in celebration of Ace's 18th birthday. Men drank ale til they were senseless, poker games were played, money was bet and lost, and large quantities of food were inhaled. Shirley, being the outcast in the group of men, decided to stick it out in her corner, talking to the chef quietly.

Taking the crudely wrapped necklace out of her back pocket, she took it out for him to see. "Some batty old lady was selling it for 13,000 beli," She explained, a bit annoyed when she recalled it. "Said that they came from some shit called Red Orca Oysters. Have you ever heard of them?" Shirley raised an eyebrow expectantly; since Gilbert formerly lived in North Blue, he should know if they were real or fake.

"Ah," He said, reaching out for them. "Actually, yes. Though quite the rarity up there, we did occasionally find some. A delicacy, they are."

"What?" Shirley said, taken aback. "They're actually _real?_ I thought she was being crazy,"

Gilbert laughed, a low rumbling sound. "Nah," He said. "They're real alright. Most people don't believe it when they hear it either, since the name's just so ridiculous. I admit, even I didn't want to acknowledge its existence until I found one for myself."

Shirley folded her arms in front of her chest, adamant. "Well, the lady gave it to me for free but I paid her 10,000 beli anyway. Is that an okay price?"

"Hmm," Gilbert deliberated, stroking his cinnamon goatee. "Yes, it's not a bad price. For something so limited, I would say it's reasonable."

She blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Good. Because that brat better like it, or else someone's gonna die. I didn't waste my entire afternoon to find some stupid gift just for him to not appreciate it." Clapping a hand on his shoulder, she grinned. "Thanks, Gilbert."

He smiled. "Anytime, Miss Shirley. Good luck."

Shirley gave him a confused look. "Good luck? With what?"

He chuckled quietly, knowingly. "Nothing. Just go give it to him already." A large, calloused hand came in touch with her back, pushing her forward. She stumbled a few steps, glaring at him spitefully, to which he merely chortled.

Most of the men had passed out by this time, so it was a perfect chance to grab Ace alone without anyone else finding her and witnessing her moment of weakness. Stepping over and weaving her way through the maze of her sleeping crew members, Shirley stood in front of Ace, who seemed half asleep with a mug of beer in one hand and his head resting on his left arm.

"Hey," She said. Her voice came out sharp, biting. "Kid. Wake up, brat." Shirley shoved his shoulder, making the now-adult blink his eyes wearily.

"Eh?" He slurred. "Shirley? Hey," Sitting back up, he stretched his arms, and she couldn't help but catch the way his biceps were flexed when he did a certain maneuver. She pressed her lips together, looking away.

"Come outside for a sec." Shirley didn't bother to explain, just turned on her heels and shot out onto the deck. A confused Ace watched before he, too, got up and haphazardly walked out the door.

The night was cool, and the moon was visible. Tiny dots marked the sky here and there, and the soothing sound of the sea washing up against the ship comforted his ears. Shirley was standing at the front of the Moby Dick, her elbows propped on the railing. The 2nd Division Commander gazed out to sea, though her eyes saw nothing. Ace's heavy footsteps came closer and closer until he stood right behind her, close enough to—

"Get your mind of the gutter, brat," She smirked, twisting her body around. Ace looked at her incredulously. How did she—?

Something rough and small was shoved into his hands. Looking down, he saw that it was a paper bag. Shirley looked away, slight abashed. "Well?" She demanded. It was a bit... softer than she expected. "Are you going to open it or not?"

Grinning, he unfolded it and slipped his hand inside, where he felt something cool and smooth to the touch. Grabbing hold and pulling it out, the teen came face-to-face with... a necklace.

It was strange, though. The pebbles were larger than any girly necklace he'd seen before, and they were heavy in his palms. They were a dull red, and more fluid than ice. "...Wow. Thanks."

Shirley scoffed. "You don't need to give me thanks. I got it for free anyway." _Not really._

Ace smirked. "Knowing you, you probably gave the person money anyway." _Shit._

She felt her cheeks heat up. What? Why? WHY? It's not like she _liked _the kid or anything. It was just his damn birthday. Just his damn birthday. Just his damn—

Warm, strong arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her back into his chest. Shirley's eyes widened in shock and her heart suddenly weighed a ton, beating faster than a rabbit's. The air became thicker and suddenly it took more effort for her to breathe. Just what was this? What did it mean? God, it was pissing her, this uncertainty. _What the fu—_

"Really. Thanks, Shirley." Ace whispered into her ear softly. The female pirate's blush darkened, and she turned her head away mechanically, her points feeling like they hadn't been oiled in years. She didn't say anything in response.

She licked her lips. Why the hell was it so hot all of a sudden? She was wearing a god damn tank top and shorts, how hot could it get—

"As if," She managed to choke out. "Like I'd give _you_ anything. It was just an old thing that I had lying around and thought you'd like it, since you ate the Mera Mera Fruit and all. You know, red with red," Her voice grew steadier as she continued her rant. "Of course, as if I cared!" She gave a mirthless laugh here, though it was obviously not genuine. The corners of her mouth twitched as she settled back into her usual scowl.

Ace smirked. "Whatever you say, Shirley," He ruffled her hair the way she hated, messing up the tresses she'd combed for once today. She scowled, but didn't attack him. She figured that, since it _was _the brat's birthday, she'd let him off the hook... this time.

"Stupid kid," she mumbled. "Go to sleep before you catch a cold."

Ace grinned. "It's not even all that cold outside tonight, _Commander_."

Shirley scoffed. "Well, who gives a shit. I'd rather you not be hacking all over me on the next mission, so get some damn rest. Idiot." She wriggled her way out of his grasp and headed towards the dorms. Halfway there, she stopped in her tracks. Turning her head slightly to the right, she called, "Happy birthday, Ace."

With a smile etched on her face, Shirley continued on her way as the sun rose over the Moby Dick.

_Fin. _

Reviews are appreciated! Thanks for reading!


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